Twin Lights
by Theia-Eos
Summary: **Sequel of Out of the Darkness** After a terrible fight, the twins are stolen in the dark by none other than their grandfather... and the numbness was taking over... **Chapter 8 up!!**
1. News from the Past

**Disclaimer**: I have Christian chained to my bed, Satine's in the closet, Harold, Marie, the Bohos, and Christian's father are stuck on the roof. I also produced the Moulin Rouge from my back pocket. (Please note the sarcasm in my voice.) All I own are a band of dust bunnies and the twins. (yay for me)  
  
Just a reminder for those who haven't read the epilogue of Out of the Darkness, ** ** are for telepathic talking.  
  
Twin Lights... News from the Past  
  
Night was falling quickly, but Satine made no notice of it. She felt more energized than ever. She bustled around the modest garret, cleaning and preparing for Christian's arrival. She wanted tonight to be special; only the two of them. It had been a while since they'd had a night to themselves.  
  
The smell roast emitted from the kitchen as she set the table. Straightening herself, she carefully surveyed her work. Candles were lit around the room, and everything was in place. Or, almost everything. Her eyes fell on a fallen pillow and narrowed.  
  
"We'll see about that," she mumbled as she marched to it and threw it back where it belonged.  
  
The bed was perfectly made and the pillows placed elaborately on the headrest. It's perfectness only served as an invitation to mess it up, much to Satine's hope, although her pregnancy suggested against it.  
  
In response to the thought, a tiny foot kicked the inside of her stomach. She winced, although it hadn't hurt much, and rubbed the afflicted region.  
  
"Now now. Papa will be home soon. Supper's not too far away."  
  
Her stomach gurgled in anticipation.  
  
**You should be resting, not cleaning,** Christian's lovingly scolding voice sounded in her mind. Satine jumped slightly and turned in the front door's direction.  
  
"I got bored. What did you expect me to do?" Satine replied, innocence creeping into her voice. Christian casted a knowing glance.  
  
"How about a nap?" he answered, hanging is hat and coat on the hanger near the door.  
  
** Maybe later,** she purred, her eyebrow rising suggestively. "And I love you too."  
  
Grinning happily, Christian wrapped his arms around her enlarged waist as her arms found their way around his neck. They kissed slowly, enjoying the moment for as long as possible before stopping for air.  
  
** You know we can't, love,** Christian cast, too out of breath to voice anything.  
  
**Says who?**  
  
**The doctor, Satine. For the sake of the twins, we're going to have to control ourselves.**  
  
Satine sighed and nodded, disheartened. After a quick kiss, Christian bent down on one knee and caressed her very pregnant stomach.  
  
"Hello boys! Have you been good to maman today?"  
  
"Sure, if that includes knocking maman black and blue," she replied for them.  
  
Christian smirked from his position on the floor, "Can't be that bad."  
  
Satine swatted the top of his head, feigning injury. "Well, lets see you do it!" With that said, she walked towards the kitchen.  
  
**No thank you, I'll pass,** he thought to her. **Just where do you think you're going?**  
  
"Getting your supper, monsieur," she called, mocking him.  
  
**I'll do it. You relax.**  
  
Her head appeared from the entryway, "It's not a problem. I'm already up."  
  
"You've done enough today." Christian grabbed her arm gently and guided her to the sofa despite her protestations. "Sit, relax," he ordered, and she rolled her eyes at him.  
  
Satisfied, he disappeared into the kitchen. Satine shook her head and smiled at his over protectiveness. She was grateful for it, of course, but sometimes he acted as though she was made of glass. She wouldn't break; her life's story proved that. She was strong and resistant, despite her sometimes fragile appearance.  
  
Slowly, she felt herself doze off to sleep. she hadn't realized how tired she really was! Just as she felt herself slip out of consciousness, her barely perceivable sound emitted from the doorway. Satine awoke with a start and looked in the direction of the sound.  
  
There was a yellow envelope, slipped under the door. It was crumpled and dirty, like it had come a long way. Curious, she got up (with much effort) and inspected it more closely. They'd never received mail before this!  
  
On the front, Christian's name was neatly inscribed. A small foot kicked her stomach (for the millionth time that day, she was sure) and she rubbed it absently.  
  
**Chris!** Satine called, too distracted to voice it out loud.  
  
A crash emitted from the kitchen, and Christian came rushing out. "What is it? Is it the babies?" His skin became a few shades lighter.  
  
"You got a letter..." she replied, holding up the yellow envelope. The prospect of fatherhood was making him a nervous wreck. She laughed inwardly at the thought of the time of delivery, wondering if he'd make it through alive.  
  
Christian took in a few deep breaths. "I heard that. And I'm not a nervous wreck! I'm just..."  
  
"Nervous. I am too, but we'll be fine," Satine reassured him, feeling like she's said it hundreds of times.  
  
Handing him the letter, she attempted to change the subject. "Who is it from?"  
  
Upon seeing the script at the front of the envelope, Christian paled, even lighter than before.  
  
**Chris?** Satine question, worry gnawing at her. **Who is it from?**  
  
"My father..." he mumbled, not believing his own eyes.  
  
*A/N* Don't worry all, this won't be a typical Chris' father meets Satine and doesn't like her and bla bla bla (no offense to those you wrote some, they were good, just... typical). So just give this story a chance! R&R! 


	2. Born at Last

*A/N* Yay! I got 4 reviews!! Sorry about the REALLY slow updates, school is crazy hectic!! I'll try my best to be as quick as possible! 

I'm also trying really hard to live up to everyone's expecations this story (since y'all seemed to like Out of the Darkness, and I want this one to be just as enjoyable). The first 4 chapters will be the base of the pyramid, so please bear with me. The action's coming really soon, I promise!

I don't own the song Arabian Night from Disney's Aladdin, which is used here.

Twin Lights... Born at Last

*Chris? Satine questioned, worry gnawing at her. **Who is it from?**

"My father..." he mumbled, shocked out of his mind. Christian stood gaping at the letter, hardly blinking, unmoving. When he left London, his father kindly informed Christian that he wanted nothing to do with him, and swore they would never see each other again. Considering Christian hadn't bothered to write home in over a year (due to the lack of response from his family), why would his father have bothered to write now? Maybe they were checking if he was still alive, or forever lost to the Green Fairy and wasting his life away with a can-can girl.

Christian snapped back ot reality when Satine placed a comforting hand on his arm. "He really said that?"

"You're not a can-can girl, Satine... He didn't mean us. We're different. We love one another! Believe me, I'm not wasting my life..." Christian rambled on, kicking himself with guilt. Those words were harsh, even though they weren't his own. His father's controlling words were the reason Christian left London in the first place (besides wanting to be a writer, of course), and even now he was letting those words hurt the woman he loved?

"I was once a glorfied whore... Which is worst?" Satine responded quietely. Tears of shame and regrets from the past sprang to her eyes. Unable to suppress the torrent of emotions, she turned away from him, hugging herself for comfort.

"It wasn't like that. You had no choice! It was for survival..." When she didn't face him, he gently grabbed her elbow, forcing their eyes to meet. "I don't think you were just a whore, or just a can-can girl. You're the woman I love, and nothing can change that. Not my father, not Harold, not even the duke! I don't care what they say, they can't control us," Christian said with such conviction that Satine almost believed him.

**Don't give in to them** he thought to her. 

Wipping her eyes, she smiled at him. **Come what may.**

"Now," Satine said, grabbing the letter from his hands, "are you going to read it? Or should I?"

Christian shook his head. "Throw it out."

Satine's face fell. "Why?"

"I won't let my father control our lives. Besides," he added, re-taking possession of the yellow enveloppe, "he said he wanted nothing to do with me. I feel the same way."

He threw the letter into the garbage can, and brushed passed Satine's confused expression to the kitchen. 

"Aren't you the least bit curious?" she called after him.

**Nope.**

"You're impossible," she mumbled to herself. Christian emerged from the kitchen, carrying two very tempting, and very full, plates of food. 

"Who's hungry?"

"Us!" Satine exclaimed, rushing (as fast as her swollen feet could carry her) to the table. Christian set the plate in front of her, and she immediately lunged for food, despite his amused (and amazed at how much she could eat in one sitting) expression.

Christian, however, barely touched his roast. Deep in thought, he picked at his supper with a fork, until Satine lifted her meat filled face from her plate. **Eat,** she ordered. **You have a big day tomorrow.**

But they had no idea how big that day would be.

***

The first performance of Christian's play was today. The entire Moulin was bustling with excitement. Finally, the much anticipated show was making it's appearance.

The day passes like a blur, filled with last minute preperations and last minute rehersals. Christian had seen to everything himself, of course, and Satine tagged along, more than happy to watch his show being prepared. Even thought it had been her dream to be an actress, she didn't care much for being on stage anymore. The twins were a much more important and rewarding project.

At last, everyone took their places. The seats were completely filled, with Satine and Christian at the front. The curtains opened, and Toulouse stood behind a worn commerce stand.

He performed his short monologue outstandingly. Satine could feel Chrsitian's joy radiating from everywhere inside her mind and soul. She smiled.

"Oh I come from a land, from a faraway place  
Where the caravan camels roam  
Where they cut off your ear  
If they don't like your face  
It's barbaric, but hey, it's home."

A strange feeling in her stomach caused her smile to fade. It intensified, then released and left as quickly as it came. She felt the twins' worry from inside her.

"When the wind's from the east  
And the sun's from the west  
And the sand in the glass is right  
Come on down  
Stop on by  
Hop a carpet and fly  
To another Arabian night. "

Another one came, this time stronger. The twins squirmed. Satine closed her eyes. Out of all the chances they could have gotten, they decide to be born now?

"Arabian nights  
Like Arabian days  
More often than not  
Are hotter than hot  
In a lot of good ways."

A third one. Christian must have felt that one because he suddenly turned to her and became ghostly white.

"Arabian nights  
'Neath Arabian moons  
A fool off his guard  
Could fall and fall hard  
Out there on the dunes."

**Now?!?**

Satine could only nod. Perfect. Just perfect.


	3. Pride and Joy

*A/N* Sorry all, there's a wee bit of swearing in this fic (she's giving birth, and it tends to hurt ever so slightly...lol).  
  
Twin Lights... Pride and Joy  
  
Time stretched itself like a rubber band, sometimes so tightly that it could almost snap. It reminded Christian of his own mind at the moment. He could only feel a fraction of what Satine felt, and he thought he was going mad. At least she didn't have to wait, worrying, in a empty hallway. At least he didn't have to feel the pain.  
  
**How do you feel?**  
  
**I feel like running out of this room and rip your head off of your goddamn shoulders!** she threatened angrily.  
  
Christian shut up immediately. She was fine when they reached his garret, but steadily, she grew more and more aggressive...  
  
A sharp yelp emitted from the other side of the door. Christian jumped and resisted the urge to run to Satine, partly because she might kill him if she saw him.  
  
**I swear Christian! Fuck! I'm never letting you touch me again!**  
  
He paled visibly and began pacing back and forth, back and forth... He needed a distraction from the worry looming over him. The pacing was oddly therapeutic. Back and forth, back and forth, back and...  
  
"Good Lord! Will you stop before you make us dizzy or do we need to chain you to the wall?"  
  
Christian turned at the sound of Harold's voice. The play was over, and the bohos, Marie and Zidler came to check on the happy couple.  
  
"How are you holding up?" Zidler asked at what he saw. Christian was pale, his eyes were red and puffy, his hair a mess.  
  
"Fine, just fine... Except for the fact that I think I'm going to faint, Satine's been threatening me for the past hour, and if I don't get on the other side of that door very, very soon, I'm going to go mad. But then again, if I even dare venture across the threshold, Satine might kill me..."  
  
Maybe happy wasn't quite the word they were looking for. All the same, Harold chuckled at the mental image of Satine strangling Christian.  
  
After receiving a few encouraging pats on the back Christian swayed lightly and sunk to the floor.  
  
"What's wrong?" Toulouse asked.  
  
"So much pain... She's going to kill me. She's going to kill me..." Christian mumbled, his knees tucked under his chin tightly.  
  
"Really?" Harold asked, still amused by the image. "What did she say?"  
  
Christian raised an eyebrow at him. "Something about a knife surrounded by spicy vulgar words."  
  
The hallway was silent for a moment until a loud cry of pain filled their ears. Christian was on his feet immediately, but the bohos held him back.  
  
"The doctor wouldn't be too happy about it. And remember? Angry Satine? With a knife?" Satie told him softly. Christian nodded and sat back down.  
  
"It won't be too long now," a voice said, but he wasn't sure whose.  
  
Suddenly, they heard tiny cries. All eyes were on Christian, whose own were filled with tears.  
  
**Oh Christian! You should see him! He's so beautiful...** Satine's tired voice was in his mind. Obviously, she'd forgotten her violent suggestions momentarily.  
  
A few moments later, the beautiful boy's brother was born, and Christian was allowed to see Satine.  
  
He opened the door cautiously, ready to dodge any objects that may come his way. She was laying on the bed with her eyes closed, looking like a drowning chihuahua stuck in rapids, who was then casually washed onto shore.  
  
She opened one eye when she heard him enter. "You don't look so great yourself."  
  
He laughed, relieved she's regained her good humor.  
  
"Come here," Satine ordered him. "Come see your sons."  
  
He approached quietly and leaned over her. Cradled in the crook of her arm rested two round, pink faces contently sleeping. The most beautiful babies he'd ever seen.  
  
"I'm proud of you," he whispered, kissing the top of her head. He was a father now. This wasn't so bad.  
  
Christian turned at the sound of footsteps, and felt rage begin to boil in the pit of his stomach.  
  
"You! What the hell are you doing here? I thought I told you never to come near Satine again!" he yelled, grabbing the doctor's collar.  
  
"Christian!"  
  
"I can't believe you delivered my children when you almost let their mother kill herself!" he continued, yelling louder and louder.  
  
"Christian stop it!"  
  
He turned his head in Satine's direction.  
  
"It's alright! That wasn't his fault! Now let him go!"  
  
Christian obeyed despite his better judgment. The doctor straightened himself, "I'll leave you two a moment," and left quietly. The twins wailed.  
  
"You woke up the babies," Satine scolded him and proceeded to hush them back to sleep. The crying stopped at once and Christian lay beside Satine, taking a red-headed little one in his arms.  
  
"What do you think this one is? A Jared or an Ian?" he asked, trying to get on her good side again. They'd decided on baby names long ago, but picking which one was which could prove to be a challenge.  
  
"He's Ian. You can see it in his face," she said decisively. "And this one," she continued, holding up the dark-haired baby," is a Jared. Definitely."  
  
Christian scrutinized the two babies' faces with amusement. "If you say so." He looked at them again, and suddenly, what Satine said made sense. Although, of course, he'd never admit it.  
  
Ian and Jared. Their boys. What an adventure this would be... 


	4. Breathe

*A/N* Thank you all that reviewed!! I almost cry every time I read one... They make me so happy! lol  
  
The song Breathing by Lifehouse is used. I don't own it (I said it, now you can't sue me!! muahahahaha)  
  
Twin Lights... Breathing  
  
Christian paid the doctor (with much effort) and bid his friends goodnight after they'd ogled the twins with amazement. The nurse put them to bed and left behind the doctor. Satine was asleep immediately after. He was left alone with his children.  
  
He tiptoed to the large crib in the corner of the bedroom. He and Satine were planning on buying a house in the countryside as soon as they saved enough money. Apparently his play was a success (he hadn't gotten to see the ending, much to his chagrin), and hopefully that day would come soon.  
  
They were sleeping quietly, their tiny fists curled up tightly, their chests rising and falling softly with each soft breath. Christian stroked little Jared's head gently. He stirred, but didn't wake up.  
  
"I want nothing more than, to sit outside Heaven's door and listen to you breathing, is where I wanna be..."  
  
Ian stretched and yawned. Christian couldn't help but laugh quietly. Most of his face was covered in freckles, and his hair was fiery red. From what he'd seen earlier, this little one's eyes were bright green. Christian had a feeling he'd be a mischievous one.  
  
Jared, on the other hand, had hair black as night, and deep blue eyes. His soul seemed to hold many secrets, even though he'd just been born. He was quieter than his brother, but there was no doubt Jared would be a heartbreaker later on.  
  
"I just want to be here now...  
  
I want nothing more than to sit outside Heaven's door and  
  
Listen to you breathing is where I wanna be..."  
  
Satine sat up and watched Christian sing softly to the babies. He wasn't coming to bed tonight. She smiled and fell back asleep, still hearing his voice in her mind.  
  
He didn't sleep that night, just to make sure Jared and Ian where still breathing.  
  
*** A few months later...  
  
***  
  
Ian gurgled happily from his position on the floor, Toulouse sitting right behind him with paint all over him. Jared and Christian sat facing them, with a very large canvas separating the two groups.  
  
Jared giggled as his brother threw red paint on him, covering more of his multicolored hair. Ian got yellow paint on his shirt in return.  
  
"How was this supposed to work again?" Christian asked, dodging paint.  
  
"Let theiw cwreativity shine thwough." Toulouse responded while showing Ian the proper way to hold a paintbrush.  
  
Christian could only laugh. "How about we cover them in paint, and they can crawl all over the canvas."  
  
Toulouse had the brilliant idea of teaching the twins to paint at an early age, so they could truly demonstrate their genuine status of "Children of the Revolution". Much to his dismay, it wasn't going as well as planned.  
  
"I think they've already done that," Satine said as she entered the garret. "What on earth is going on?"  
  
"Toulouse is showing our sons how to paint," Christian said, casting a quick glance upwards. She did not look too happy. "Um, Toulouse? What do you say we stop for today?"  
  
Toulouse got the message quickly, and after handing Ian to his father, left, avoiding Satine's amused stare.  
  
"Dada!" Ian shouted his only word happily.  
  
"Yes. Dada's going to get you boys cleaned up," Satine told the twin. She then commanded Christian, "Now scoot. I want them squeaky clean before supper."  
  
Christian laughed. "Yes ma'am. Anything else?"  
  
**A welcome home kiss would be nice.**  
  
**No problem.** He leaned over, their lips met quickly and pulled apart just as fast, for Jared was tugging playfully on his mother's hair, now covered in blue paint.  
  
Christian quickly rushed to the bathroom, laughing as he went. She looked good in blue.  
  
**And you look just charming in your red, orange and purple outfit.**  
  
Satine bent down and began picking up the paint-covered paintbrushes, smearing rainbow colors all over herself as she went. A loud splash emitted from the bathroom, accompanied by a chorus of giggles.  
  
They were trouble, but they were worth it. Yup, this was an adventure. And every day was just like it. Finally, life was worth living, a roller coaster ride for every moment. What more could you ask for?  
  
From the large puddle of water he was kneeling in, Christian thought the exact same thing. Another splash. It didn't matter; he was already soaked from head to toe. What more could you ask for?  
  
*A/N* sorry, that was short and equally pointless. There will be a point to this story, I promise. But yay! I love those little guys, there just so cute! 


	5. Fathers

*A/N* I finally have time to breathe!! *takes deep breath* I feel good now. I'm so very very sorry about the incredibly slow update, I had a pile of homework the size of the Empire State building... anyways, on with the story!  
  
Twin Lights... Fathers  
  
"Christian! Where are their jackets?" Satine hollered from the bottom of the closet.  
  
"What jackets?" Christian answered distractedly, struggling to put Ian's little shoe on. The boy simply giggled in delight at what he thought was playtime. "They don't need jackets."  
  
Satine's head poked out of the black hole closet, where things were put in but never came out. "It's chilly out. I don't want them to get sick."  
  
"They'll be fine. Look at them," he said, proudly displaying the twins, "strapping, resistant boys. Just like their father!" Christian grinned playfully before adding on a more serious note, "besides, it's not that cold outside."  
  
"Still, I'd feel better if..." Satine trailed off as she caught Jared pulling the tablecloth, nearly spilling dishes on himself.  
  
"I'll tell you what. How about we bring the coats in case it gets too cold?" He walked up to her and took Jared out of her arms, while successfully pulling off an adorable pleading puppy face. **Please?**  
  
Satine rolled her eyes and swatted him playfully. "All right. You win." She grabbed the coats from under the cushions on the tattered sofa (finally found them) and picked up Ian from the floor. "Let's go."  
  
And they set off for their evening walk.  
  
"Mère Poule," Christian muttered jokingly under his breath.  
  
***  
  
The evening was colder than Christian thought, and they put the twins' coats on immediately after stepping outside. Their usual route was towards the Moulin Rouge, where they brought the twins to visit Harold and Marie (they were both waiting anxiously their arrival every night."  
  
"Are we gonna visit grand-maman and grand-papa?" Satine cooed at Ian, who nodded excitedly. They were always spoiled by their "grandparents".  
  
Jared stayed calmly still in his father's arms, quietly sucking his thumb. Christian caught the act and silently shuddered, suppressing the memories of a skinny, broken Satine nestled in his arms and doing the same. After the duke... after they found her unconscious on the streets as she escaped his basement... after the horrible months that followed her recovery...  
  
Christian managed to pull out of his thoughts. They were in front of the Moulin Rouge. He cast a quick glance over his shoulder. How did they get here so quickly?  
  
**You were elsewhere, darling, while we walked. What were you thinking about? It seemed serious.**  
  
As Christian tried to think of an answer, the front doors opened, revealing three figures. He gasped and almost dropped his son in shock.  
  
"F-Father?"  
  
All eyes were on him; he wanted to turn and run back to his garret, or maybe hide behind Satine's dress.  
  
"Christian!" Harold boomed happily. "You never told me this was you're father!" He put his arm around the older man's shoulder.  
  
"You know each other?" Christian managed to choke out, repulsed.  
  
"Oh yes, we were best friends in school," Harold answered.  
  
"Until he fell in love with some... can-can girl and wasted his life away to the bohemian revolution," Christian's father finished resentfully. "We were going to be partners in business, you see. But Harry had this ridiculous obsession with love, and became this," he gestured aimlessly around himself. "A pimp, and a poor man, scrounging the streets."  
  
Marie gave him a look for his can-can girl comment, but remained silent.  
  
"W-What are-are you doing h-here?" Christian stuttered, still not having recovered from the shock. Satine watched the exchange with interest.  
  
"Coming to visit you, my boy!" he chuckled. "After you didn't answer the letter I send you, your mother became worried and ordered me to see if you were still living. I took the opportunity to visit old friends."  
  
He seemed to finally realize Satine was standing beside his son, and immediately steps forward. "Mademoiselle Satine, how nice to see you again."  
  
Christian nearly fainted. "Again?!?"  
  
**He's been here before. Don't ask why** Satine pleaded in his mind. Confused, Christian kept quiet.  
  
"And who is this little one?" he asked, patting Ian's head.  
  
"That," Christian said protectively, "is my son," and stood between Satine and his father, waiting for the explosion that was sure to come. The fathers stared each other down...  
  
*A/N* Mère Poule = Mother hen (can u say that in english? meh, anyways, it means overprotective mother...) 


	6. Odd behavior

*A/N* All I have to say is, I'm sorry. :( please don't beat me!  
  
Twin Lights...Odd behavior  
  
"That," Christian said protectively, "is my son," and stood between Satine and his father, waiting for the explosion that was sure to come. The fathers stared each other down...  
  
Mr. James blinked and broke into a forced smile. "You son... I see," he managed to say through clenched teeth. "This little tyke as well?"  
  
Christian held Jared tighter against his chest. "Yes."  
  
"How lovely."  
  
An uncomfortable silence reigned for a moment, broken by Marie clearing her throat rather loudly, amplifying the awkwardness of the situation.  
  
"Well," Mr. James finally spoke, "I better be off then. Can't find a place to sleep in the dark!" He chuckled in an attempt to lighten the mood. Harry suddenly beamed at Christian, who (for a reason he couldn't explain) cringed inside.  
  
"You could stay with your son! I'm sure he'd love to have you, wouldn't you Christian." It wasn't a question.  
  
"Well actually-"  
  
"Wonderful! There's more than enough room at the garret for one more! And it would give us the chance to stay in touch for awhile," he said to Mr. James and putting his pudgy arm around his shoulder and shaking him amiably.  
  
"I'm sure Mr. James would much prefer staying somewhere with less noise and activity. The twins are a handful and we wouldn't want them to be a bother..." Satine graciously put in, her tone never faltering. "After all, they are active little boys..."  
  
"They wouldn't be a bother!" Mr. James exclaimed enthusiastically, genuinely smiling for the first time in years. It only looked like his face was stretched too tightly and would crack open at any second. He picked little Jared up from his father's arms and cooed frighteningly at the poor boy. He sniveled slightly and rubbed his eyes, not daring to cry too loudly. Ian sensed his brother's distress and began to wail for the both of them, as he usually did (he had the lung power to do it).  
  
Christian thought of protesting but something held him back; the old chains of the past and the invisible authority of a father were like great weights on his shoulders. He only said softly, "We better be off then."  
  
They walked silently home, a bewildered Satine trying to stop the crying of the little redhead boy, and Christian, shoulders slumped, deep in thought.  
  
***  
  
A week had passed and still Christian's father stayed. He spent most of his days visiting Harold (although he hated the Moulin, or even going out on the streets of the "Village of Sin") and playing with the twins, who seemed to greatly dislike their new playmate. He made no notice of it.  
  
Christian, on the other hand, became more temperamental, barely tolerating Ian's howling, as opposed to a week before where he would have immediately rushed to his son's cries. "Take care of that insufferable noise before I do!" he'd once said, slamming the garret door behind him as he went out for air. Satine's tears had mixed with Ian's, who hadn't stopped crying due to his mother's distress.  
  
He ignored Jared's silent pleas to be held, and never read him poetry as he used to (Ian never sat still enough to make his father believe he was listening. Jared however listened with rapt attention for a child of one years old). The boy hadn't stopped whimpering since Mr. James' arrival.  
  
***  
  
Christian sat on the tattered sofa, brooding in his dark thoughts, silently cursing. Satine watched from the boys' room where she finally managed to put the twins to sleep. Fear kept her from going to him (and either slapping him across the face for his idiotic behavior, or wrapping her arms around him in comfort; she couldn't decide). She silently reprimanded herself for the fear that still haunted her to this day; the ones with the duke and being hurt. Although she knew Christian would never hurt her, he wasn't exactly himself these days...  
  
Resolved, she held her chin up and marched to the sofa and stood in front of Christian. He made no notice of her. She sat beside him silently, hoping for a response (at least a hello! He hadn't spoken to her for two days!). Nothing came.  
  
"You haven't touched you typewriter in days," she said quietly. Maybe writing will snap him out of it. "The boys miss you," Satine added.  
  
Christian didn't do as much as blink. **...wasting life... Moulin Rouge... ridiculous obsession with love... ridiculous... a writer... waste of a life...**  
  
"Snap out of it!" Satine almost yelled.  
  
Christian blinked in surprise, as if coming out of a trance. "He's right you know."  
  
"What?"  
  
"It's time I give up my childish dreams. I have children now, and I need to take care of them in the proper way." His voice was oddly monotonous. Satine was almost frightened.  
  
**Proper way?!? Like the way you're treating them now? Those boys need a father, not a stranger living in their house!** Satine huffed angrily. Mr. James had told him this, she was sure of it. How that man managed to control Christian she didn't know, but she wasn't about to stand idly while her lover's soul is crushed to the ground. "You're become your father!" she hissed at him.  
  
"Well I'm sure you're used to that since he was here before. What was he doing anyways?" he replied bitterly. Satine felt her face go red, either from anger and shock.  
  
"You're changing the subject!"  
  
"You're avoiding the question!"  
  
Satine looked at her feet and barely above a whisper said, "I can't tell you."  
  
**Wonderful. If I'm becoming my father, you wouldn't mind sleeping with me too seeing that's probably what happened.**  
  
**That's not what happened!** she yelled in his mind, tears springing to her eyes.  
  
"And why should I believe that?"  
  
Satine didn't answer, but instead ran to their bedroom and slammed the door. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she blocked him out of her head and dressing for bed. She cuddled under the covers, curled up in a tight ball and cried herself to sleep.  
  
***  
  
Christian buried his head in his hands. When was the last time they fought? He couldn't remember, if they ever quarreled at all. Slowly, his eyes shifted to the typewriter. ** ridiculous... a writer... waste of a life...** He walked to it, unsure of what he would do. "Satine is right," he typed on the paper, "I am becoming my father."  
  
In a fit of rage against himself, he threw the typewriter on the floor, almost knocking the desk over. The boys didn't seem to have woken up, but he knew Satine was a light sleeper... She must have heard him.  
  
He went to their bedroom and put his pyjamas quietly. Satine was only pretending to sleep, he knew. He didn't blame her for not wanting to talk to him. He'd been a jerk (nicely put, of course).  
  
"I'm sorry," he whispered in her hair as he kissed her goodnight. "I don't deserve someone like you. I love you."  
  
He listened to Satine soft cries until he fell asleep.  
  
***  
  
Boys are awake, the old man thought as he heard Jared whimper. He was sharing a room with them for his stay. Perfect.  
  
He looked at the twins every night, all night. Watched them sleep. They won't be like them, he always thought, not like their parents. He looked at Ian and saw a whore. He hated the whore, he always thought. But Ian is still pure, Ian can be saved.  
  
He looked at Jared and saw and idiot. The idiot he raised. He would not fail, he always thought. Not with these boys. They can still be saved.  
  
He always waited, biding his time, until the perfect night where the whore and the idiot fought. They were preoccupied now. Tonight is the perfect night to save them.  
  
He picked up the half-asleep twins and tiptoed to the door. He will not fail, not like he had with Christian. He could still raise them properly.  
  
No one saw Mr. James slip out the door with Ian and Jared that night. 


	7. Panic

Twin Lights... Panic  
  
Christian awoke with a start. He'd had the most horrible dream; something had happened to the children he adored. Yawning, he rose and stretched lazily, looking outside the bedroom window. The sun was unusually high; he must have slept in later than the boys normally let him.  
  
Suddenly, something caught his eye. Satine was still in bed! She was always up before him since the bond she had with the twins was so strong that she'd wake up when they did. He stood silently, hardly breathing, trying to hear the sound of his sons' laughter in their crib in the other room. Nothing.  
  
**Maybe they slept late...** Christian tried to convince himself that was the reason the garret was so silent. He forced his legs to walk normally and his heart to beat steadily. Finally, he reached the twin's room and swung the door open quickly. The room was empty.  
  
His legs gave out and he crumbled to the ground. He thought his heart would burst. He started shaking violently, tears flowing from his eyes like waterfalls; he couldn't breathe.  
  
Somehow he found the strength to stand, sucking for air like a fish out of the water. The room spun. He reached the crib. His children should have been there, happily babbling nonsense. When they saw him, they would have cried, "Dada!" and Christian would have picked them up, kissed them both and bid them good morning. But they weren't there. Christian grabbed Jared's blanket and held it tightly against himself, forcing himself not to cry loudly. He would wake Satine, and he didn't know how to tell her...  
  
"Your father was in love with Marie when Harold opened the Moulin Rouge," Satine's voice came from the doorway. Christian shook his head. Didn't she realize that it didn't matter anymore?  
  
"They courted for a while until Marie fell in love with Harold. Your father was investing in the Moulin until it got on its feet, then they would share the profit. Your father found out about Marie's affair and became insanely jealous and tried to kill her. He failed and eventually left, with the deeds of the Moulin in his pockets. Harold had to start over and finally succeeded." Satine continued her explanation. Christian still had her back facing her, clutching the only thing left of their children, silently crying. How didn't she feel what he was feeling?  
  
Satine must have took his silence for continued anger against her, because she kept going, "I remember when he came back, I'd just started working as the Sparkling Diamond. He was surprised as to how much I resembled my mother, and became obsessed with the thought that I was Marie when she was younger. He tried to kill me too, and almost succeeded if it weren't for Marie. She didn't want me to tell you because she knew about us, and was afraid the duke would get the same idea... she was afraid history would repeat itself..." Her voice trailed off.  
  
**Christian? Why are you shaking?**  
  
He didn't turn. He couldn't face her... This was his fault. His father was gone, and so were their children. It wasn't just a coincidence.  
  
"Hey..." she spoke, slowly walking towards him. "What's-" Satine stopped short, realizing Christian was standing over the twin's crib. "Is there something wrong with the twins?!?" She was behind him in the blink of an eye.  
  
"No!" he screamed, grabbing her by the shoulders and stopping her from seeing into the crib. She couldn't see... Not right yet...  
  
"Shh! You'll wake them up! Sleepy little buggers aren't they this morning?" Satine whispered, smiling. It soon faded as more tears sprung from Christian's eyes. "Sweetheart, what's wrong?" she said as she wiped them away.  
  
Christian tore his gaze away from her concerned face. He took one shuddery breath before speaking, "The twins are gone."  
  
Satine blanched slightly, but raised and eyebrow at him, undecided between panic and amusement. Maybe he was overreacting? She prayed to God he was.  
  
"So is my father."  
  
"Maybe he took them for a morning stroll," she suggested, half smiling. Her heart was beginning to beat faster.  
  
Christian met her eyes again. **No.** He couldn't speak anymore; only a loud sob sprang from his throat. His legs felt weak once again; he thought he would faint. Satine helped him sit on the ground. Immediately his head buried itself in his hands as he cried loudly.  
  
Satine simply stood numb, staring at him with wide eyes. She was rooted to that spot, unable to move, to think or speak. Her heart was thumping so hard against her chest it hurt. Slowly, her gaze moved from Christian to the empty crib. For a split second, she could have sworn she saw Ian, his arms outstretched at her, screaming, "Mama!", as if he was begging her to help him. She could have sworn she saw Jared crying loudly for the first time. The whole image was like the icy blanket of fear wrapping around her, shilling her to the bone.  
  
She too began to shake, but still couldn't move, unable to cry for help. One last thought sprang in her head before it froze over. That thought was: **Where are my children?** 


	8. Mama's coming

Twin Lights... Mama's coming  
  
*A/N* Wow, that update took long. I'm really sorry, I have math this semester and passing the damn class is going to be a HUGE challenge (I'm doing badly as is even if I'm actually doing my homework! *gasp*) So no one beat me please. I'm trying. :) enjoy  
  
PG-13 for some swearing  
  
The policemen were cold soldiers. Christian was standing near the babies' room talking to them, running his hand through his messy black hair. His eyes were red and puffy, his lips cracked. He looked half-crazed with worry.  
  
Harold and Marie were in the entrance, holding each other tightly. They rushed to the garret once they heard the news. They weren't crying yet; Satine assumed they were still in shock.  
  
She didn't know if she liked this numbness better than the full-fledged panic attacks Christian kept having. She expected herself to break down, but she couldn't feel. She was frozen, sitting in the corner of the sofa.  
  
Absently, Satine rubbed her arms and realized that a blanket was covering them. She distantly remembered Christian putting it around her shoulders when he helped her to sit down. Wasn't that a dream?  
  
There they were, the cold policemen, the panicking father, the helplessly distraught grandparents, and the numb mother. The scene was surreal. She didn't remember blinking recently. She forced her eyes closed to see if they still worked. No tears came.  
  
The absence of tears made Satine feel like a selfish bitch. **My children are missing dammit! Why won't it sink in? Why can't I cry?**  
  
Christian ran his hand through his hair once more. He didn't hear her. Maybe she hadn't thought anything at all. Maybe she was dead. It was more comforting than knowing she didn't feel for her missing children.  
  
***  
  
"Satine?"  
  
Her eyes opened, but she didn't remember making her eyelids move. Maybe they were never closed. Christian was blurry in front of her.  
  
"Satine, come to bed."  
  
Satine was curled up in the corner of the sofa, ever still. At some point during the day, she had curled into a ball and cowered under the blanket. The day was a blur. Memory gaps haunted her, but only for a moment. What else could be taken away from her? Time and memory had no meaning now.  
  
When she didn't respond, Christian gently touched her shoulder. "Please Satine," he begged, "come to bed." He didn't want to sleep alone. She didn't blame him. But the difference was she didn't want to sleep at all. **I'm numb remember? I'm the ice queen, trapped by her own weapon. I can't move.**  
  
He kissed her forehead and retreated. He hadn't heard her plea to be held.  
  
A single tear rolled down her cheek and lost itself into her tangled red hair. But her eyes never closed.  
  
***  
  
Satine was still in her corner after three days. Had it been that long? She laughed inwardly, as if it was a private joke. She smelled, there was no use denying it. She hadn't eaten since... it had been three days. Two was too short and four was too long. What was she thinking about again? Oh yes, the food. Maybe it was sleep.  
  
She didn't remember sleeping. Maybe she had, maybe she hadn't. It was all one great fucking mystery. The old news were that she didn't care.  
  
She remembered hearing Christian cry in their bedroom. It was torture. She wanted to go to him so badly, her body ached when it battle relentlessly with her mind. Her heart went out to him, her mind was an icicle. Eventually she let her heart cry too. But her eyes were always dry.  
  
"Satine?" Christian had tried every night to snap Satine out of her stupor. Maybe this was the fourth night? Hell, who cares?  
  
**He does** she told herself. Did Christian feel her mental battle?  
  
"Lying here won't make it better..."  
  
**Finding my children will. The fucking incompetent policemen won't find them.**  
  
"They will come back to us, but you need to take care of yourself too."  
  
**I need them.**  
  
"Come with me..." It was more like a pleading question than a request.  
  
**I'll find them. Tonight.**  
  
Satine blinked and moved her head slightly so she could see her lover. Her muscles were stiff from not being used. Christian nearly cried with relief, and he might have, if his tears weren't exhausted.  
  
He helped her to her feet and hugged her fiercely. He didn't even care that she hadn't washed in four days. "I can't lose you too..."  
  
Christian led her to their bed and lay her down gently. After tucking her in, he slipped under the covers, and with one arm draped over her stomach, fell into a deep sleep.  
  
Satine couldn't sleep. She knew what she had to do. Christian was snoring now, good. She lifted his arm slowly and slipped onto the floor. She wrote him a note by hand, fearing the noise of the typewriter would be too loud.  
  
And she was gone into the night. 


End file.
